Selfish
by LilyJadeth
Summary: Sober Doumeki decides that he wants to be more than just friends with Watanuki. Drunk Doumeki feels the same and decides to act upon it. However, their relationship takes a turn for the uncertain. Spoilers for chapter 180 up and M-rated DoumekixWatanuki.
1. Shizuka :Risk:

**So this is my first-ever **_**xxxHolic**_** fic. There will probably be more chapters when I can find the time to write them ^^'''**

**I reeeeally love writing in second-person POV, if you haven't already noticed. I dunno, it's easier for me.**

**Spoilers for chapters 180+! Just warning you now. Also, only rated T for now, until it gets to M later, possibly, idk.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHolic, sake, or a Chinese hanfu. God, disclaimers are depressing.**

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You don't know what to do. Rather, you don't know how much longer you can hold out. Not only does he confuse you, but the entire matter is starting to confuse you too. And you don't want to confuse yourself, because then you'd be some rambling fool who can't judge reality. Nowadays, though, it's hard _not_ to question reality. You try not to think about that too much, but how can you tell the difference between what's real and what's a dream? Or are they _both _real? There's a growing headache telling you to stop everything; stop thinking, stop moving, stop breathing for just a moment. You want your feelings to be realized, but it's still hard to speak. You're afraid to say too many words for fear you'd choke from the sheer amount, so you say only a word or two at a time. You're a man of many words that can't break the surface of a stoic façade. He doesn't know, or he pretends not to know, or he's an idiot, or he's teasing you. Those are your options.

You'd much rather pick idiot.

Watanuki sets down Yuuko's pipe and snatches the cup from you, only to have you seize it back wordlessly. To have your hands touch if only just for a fleeting second, it's all you want but you crave for more. You want to touch more of him, to have him all to yourself, and it's a selfish thought. You glance at the bottle of sake — practically empty save for maybe one last glass. And you're the only one who's been drinking and you still thirst for more, but if you ask him to fetch another bottle that'd mean he'd leave the room, and, selfishly, you can't have him leave. You knock back the last of the sake straight from the bottle.

"Your liver must be made of steel," he deadpans, and his words give you an excuse to look at him. He's tired, very unamused, his mismatched eyes staring you down impassively, head resting lazily in one hand. He's barefoot and wearing a patterned black Chinese _hanfu_ that makes his thin frame more prominent. You've noticed that he's become more and more like Yuuko in that there is more tranquility to his expression, more wisdom in his eyes. He seems too delicate, and moves slowly as if he'll break.

"I'm fine," you manage to say, standing up, and you suddenly feel sick to your stomach. Watanuki rushes up to balance you and ease you back down. Too dizzy to make sense of anything, you grab onto him, glad for the excuse to hold him.

"Idiot," he says with a small smile. "You can't go home when you're like this."

You don't protest; you just let yourself collapse into his grasp, allowing gravity to bring you down to where it's safe to fall. Your eyes close involuntarily while you hope you don't fall asleep. It's rare to see Watanuki genuinely concerned for you, so much so that it almost makes you wish for what used to be.

"Maru, Moro," he calls quietly, and somehow the twins are able to make out their names because a synchronized, high-pitched "yes master!" is heard from the hallway. You can just barely discern their silhouettes behind the sliding paper doors, and you can imagine the wide smiles on their faces. "Get some blankets and bring them to my room."

The silhouettes move as the two girls salute. "Right away master!"

Watanuki swings your arm over his shoulder and heaves you up to a weak standing position. "Get _up,_ Doumeki."

The mere sound of your name from his voice grants you enough strength at least to make it to his bedroom. You've never seen it before, never imagined it; or maybe you just didn't think about the fact that he lived here now. It's shrouded in darkness except for one light that illuminates the mesh canopy over a bed with a cool hue. Maru and Moro stand at either side of a small provisional bed beside Watanuki's. They help him lay you down on the sheets, and there's no room to protest. The twins throw the bedcovers neatly over you as Watanuki slides into his own bed. The lights begin to dim, and you notice the twins have suddenly reappeared at the doorway in the blink of an eye, or maybe you've dazed off for a few moments.

"Goodnight master," they say, one after the other.

"Goodnight girls," he calls back.

"Goodnight Doumeki," they say, in unison this time.

"Nn." It's all you can manage to say, the alcohol finally showing the side effects of sleep. You succumb to it as soon as your head falls back to hit the pillow. You awaken seemingly a second later, but it's probably been an hour or two. Finally able to stand, you lean against Watanuki's bed and look over. His eyes are closed, black hair strewn beneath him. There's one arm out from the sheets, almost hanging off the edge of the bed — as if he's been sleeping on one side of the bed all night — and his head is slightly to the side. He's completely vulnerable, you know this, and you hope _he_ doesn't. The desire burns, painfully. You long to lean over, kiss him, hold him down as he wakes up and struggles against the strength of an archer, knowing he can't possibly win but trying anyway. And you want to laugh, cry, and knock a bit of sense into him all at the same time. For someone who's become almost as wise and all-knowing as Yuuko, he sure is blind.

You can't help it now. You press your lips lightly to his, thinking that you'll end it with just that, thinking that it's within your power to stop there. But it's not, and you realize that once you've had a taste you need more. There's a tobacco flavor in his mouth, and he can probably taste the sake on your breath. You open your eyes just as Watanuki's eyes are fluttering open until they widen in surprise, his hands pushing at your shoulders to get you off of him but it's to no avail. His resistance is beginning to crumble as you slide a hand to his chest; the clothes, only a minor nuisance, easily slip off his mutters your name, commanding, for the brief moments when his mouth is free to breathe, trying to order you to come to your senses and stop, but hearing him say your name only causes you deepen the kiss, heightening the intensity, making you crave more and more and more until there's nothing left. The room is spinning, probably from the alcohol, so you cling to Watanuki's clothes for balance, for dear life, and slip your tongue in.

You feel that his defenses are weakening when he punches you, hard, and the physical injury doesn't hurt as much as the emotional one. The turmoil of confused and wounded feelings doesn't show on your face, but even Watanuki can tell he's done something to you, something more than just throw a punch you. But you figured as much, expected it, and in fact it would have been odd and uncharacteristic if he hadn't. His brow furrows in anger and shock, his fist still clenched, hair messy, breath ragged and labored, face flushed.

"Ow."

"Doumeki, you're drunk."

"Sure." You give him your usual deadpan stare, and it only makes him explode with fury.

"That wasn't a yes or no— _That wasn't even a question! _God, Doumeki. Go back to bed."

Watanuki turns away and throws the covers back over himself, irate and grumbling. You sigh, leaving what little is left of your body's control slip away as you fall back onto your makeshift bed. You use the last of your strength to stay awake until you hear him snore, breathing more relaxed and even, before bothering to close your eyes; you've almost forgotten to breathe yourself.

And you smile at the thought that you've made him blush more than he ever has in front of Himawari.

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**A/N: Please rate and review! I'd love to know what you think, and if I should keep going with this. You guys are my one and only motivation~!**


	2. Kimihiro :Memory:

**Chapter two has arrived! Rather quickly, actually. Don't expect me to dole them out this fast from here on out, _I've got things to do people_**** :D**

**Sorry it's a bit shorter than last chapter. It seems I can't really write much more than 1,000 or so words in one scene :P**

**If you're at all confused, it's because I've decided to alternate Doumeki and Watanuki's points of view between chapters.**

**So enjoy chapter two, and have fun~**

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You awaken from a strange dream that's starting to fade from your memory, assuming it's probably not important if your mind shut it out and kept it from you. Waiting for a moment before you get up and out of bed, you prop your hands behind your head and stare at the ceiling. The kiss wouldn't have been that bad if he hadn't been drunk— _Wait, what am I thinking?! I like Himawari, Himawari!_ Your thoughts swirl in panic, hands covering your reddening face. Last night was, after all, your first kiss, and Doumeki had taken it without even asking, _without even bothering to wake you up before jumping the gun like that. _Unconsciously, you touch your fingers to lips that still haven't forgotten Doumeki's actions. 'The mind may forget but the body remembers,' Mokona had said. It makes perfect sense now that you think long and hard on it. You hear a low mumble from below and turn your head lazily. Doumeki's still asleep, expression listless and far off, hand on chest.

You'd think someone as annoying as Doumeki would have the common decency to snore.

Two small human figures and their rabbit-shaped plus-one interrupt your thoughts by propelling themselves into your stomach. You hunch over your midsection, shaking and ready to cry, as all three dissolve the space between you and them like rabid fangirls devoted to a gorgeous celebrity — and you know you are anything but a gorgeous celebrity.

"Morning, master!~" Maru and Moro chime.

"Watanuki, Watanuki! Get up, it's time for breakfast and I'm hungry!" Mokona demands wholeheartedly.

"It's too frickin' early for this!" You push the black fuzzball with the high-and-mighty attitude out of your face with the palm of your hand, its ability to fight back stronger than you'd anticipated. "I'm tired 'cause I didn't get much sleep last night!"

You regret the words the instant they leave your mouth, and the girls' smiles take a horrible turn from happy to mischievous, entirely misinterpreting what you've said but still not far off from the truth. "Oh?~" they say in unison.

"Why, master?~"

"What happened last night, master?~"

"It has something to do with Doumeki, doesn't it?" Mokona accuses.

"None of your business!" you growl. You're surprised and yet not at the fact that Doumeki's been able to sleep through their loud prodding.

The trio taunt you for the rest of the morning: while you change into fresh clothes (behind the screen of course), while you make tea, while you cook breakfast for everyone else. You sit down at the small kotatsu table with a cup of tea and a sigh of relief just as they reappear to torment you even more.

"Tell us what happened, tell tell tell~!"

"I'm not going to feed you if you keep pestering me!" you explode. But they ignore you, chanting "tell tell tell~" until they grow bored of your silence and find something else to do. Then they burst in again, skipping and singing, with a sleepy Doumeki in tow. He's rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet while the girls tug him into the room by his one free hand. You don't know what you should say, if anything, instantly recalling the night before and blushing slightly. Maru and Moro and Mokona wait in silence, turning their heads in synchronization back and forth between the two of them.

"_What happened, what happened~_" they whisper, their voices attempting to be low but clearly audible anyway.

"What?" he asks of you, as if last night hadn't occurred.

"What?" you ask; yours is more of a question than his.

"You hit your head or somethin'?" His expression is pained as he massages his temples.

"No," you say warily, "but you look like you've hit yours. You okay?"

He stares, his eyes widening for a moment before they close shut and he frowns. "Hangover."

The three onlookers acting as audience wail in disappointment. "Awwwww! But we want to know what happened!~"

"Quiet!" you order them. But you seem to have hurt them, their eyes growing big and sad, and you ease up in silent apology. "Doumeki's not feeling well." You turn back to the archer, who looks as if he's about to sway. "Go back to bed, Doumeki."

A pang seems to run through him as he tenses, looking up as if his memory is foggy. "What?"

"Go back to bed." You're as calm and composed as ever, and dead serious too.

"I'm fine." He manages to make his way across the room and drops himself down at the opposite end of the kotatsu. "Food?"

"'Food'?!" you exclaim, the girls huddling to watch in amazement at the usual show of argument, Watanuki vs. Doumeki. "Not even a good morning?!"

"Good morning. Food?"

You groan in exasperation, head hanging from your neck in defeat. "Whaddya want?"

He thinks for a moment, staring blankly like he always does, before he makes his decision. "Tamagoyaki."

For once, it's not something ridiculous or out-of-season; it's manageable, normal in fact. You leave the room and enter the kitchen wordlessly and return half an hour later with the egg rolls and a cup of tea and set it down in front of him. He picks up the chopsticks and you remember what his ancestor Haruka told you — that Doumeki will not eat anything but what he can trust — and you notice that he always eats everything you give him without a moment's hesitation. He pauses, however, at the tea, looming over it, watching the rolling steam.

"What's this?" he asks, not looking up but pointing at it.

"Ginseng tea. It's supposed to be good for hangovers." _I used to give it to Yuuko when she'd drink too much,_ you stop yourself from adding. The memories of her are still painful, deep wounds still fresh in the open air, and you're afraid you'll choke up if you say it.

Doumeki looks as if he's about to make a remark, then shuts his mouth and starts eating. You wonder if he's going to say anything about last night, if he'll try it again when he's sober, if it all amounts to anything. Was he teasing you, was he just drunk, or does he actually have feelings for you? You've always said you hate Doumeki, but do you really? Listing off every incident in your head, you count the numerous times that Doumeki has been there for you, that he's sacrificed something important for you.

Out of the blue, interrupting your train of thought, he asks: "Did something happen last night?"

Without a word, your head meets the desk.

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**A/N: I know the ending is ridiculous XD but basically Doumeki had a memory lapse of what he did because of the alcohol. ****Maybe I'll have it come back later, possibly sorta kinda **_**we'll see.**_

**And many thanks to some unexplained and inexplicable inspiration from The Munch.**

**I think she may have finally found a grenade launcher and decided to shoot me once and for all (as payback for all those times I tried to kill her), but the grenades must have been replaced with rabid plot-bunnies. Or a plot-Mokonas, in this case. I don't know exactly how it happened, but it's gonna be good.**

**Rate and review, please~ I'd love to hear your feedback!**


	3. Shizuka :Nothing:

**Yay for Chapter 3~**

**Enjoy! :D**

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It's all unclear now. You can't help but feel that something _did_ happen last night, but the clouds that cover your memory only annoy you when they won't part. You go home at the end of the day only to lie awake in bed, unsure how to encounter the situation. There's a pang throbbing repeatedly in your chest that won't go away, and you know that it won't until you talk to him. But it's the middle of the night. Sleeping on it won't do you any good if you can't sleep.

He has Himawari, doesn't he? The hopelessness of this thought has troubled you for hours. What to do when the one you love loves someone else? You can try force, though you get the feeling that it wouldn't work. Besides, you're a _guy. _You don't even know if Watanuki does — or is willing — to swing that way.

You get up, knowing that just lying there isn't going to help matters. You go outside and practice some archery for a while, hoping to concentrate your thoughts away from him, but you can't seem to hit the target the way you want to. Your hands shake, grip unsteady, not to mention your vision is now half of what it used to be.

There's an ominous presence behind you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You turn, and you can't see anything, but if experience has taught you one thing it's that not seeing anything doesn't mean there's nothing there. You squint in the darkness, arrow poised and ready if something attacks. You can faintly trace a figure to your left, and like a piece of warped glass it moves and distorts the appearance of its surroundings. It jumps out of sight, and the presence is gone, but you know that doesn't mean it's safe to relax.

You whirl around, back to the target, to see a teenage girl with short black hair, and you would normally ease up if not for the fact that she is clad in cat ears and tail.

"Who or what are you?" you demand.

"I could ask you the same," she purrs, her golden eyes gleaming from the shadows, "But I won't, because I already know." Her pupils are vertically narrow and dilated as she bats her lashes and points in your direction with a sharp fingernail. "There's a goldfish on your shoulder."

Well that's not something you hear every day. You lower the bow and turn your head, your gaze meeting the unblinking stare of bulging eyeballs. Its fins undulate back and forth as if it were floating in water. Without warning, the catgirl pounces, grazing your shoulder, and appears back at her previous standing with the fish in her claws. She tilts her head back and swallows the fish whole, pushing it down her throat with one finger.

"You never answered my question," you say, waiting until she's finished eating.

"It's not important," the catgirl answers, waving her hand dismissively, finger still at her lips. "I only showed myself to you because you would've shot me if I hadn't warned you first." She grins, showing off dangerous pointed teeth.

"I've been told I ward off spirits," you say, "so how can you be talking to me?"

"You ward off _evil_ spirits," she responds in a nonchalant tone, then giggles. "Unlike someone else I know who attracts them."

Something in the back of your mind tells you to run. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"My my, so many questions!" she chimes, laughing, though you get the feeling it's no laughing matter. "I'll ask you one of my own, then." The catgirl licks her lips and lets out a long meow before she speaks. "Did you see Watanuki Kimihiro lock his front door when you left?"

Your brow furrows. "No," you realize. "Why?"

She sighs, then jumps to stand on the fence and begins to skip off. "Nasty things have a habit of getting in when you don't lock your doors, Doumeki Shizuka~" The catgirl winks before bounding off after another goldfish. "Especially on a night of a full moon."

The bow and arrows drop to the ground.

---

"Hey!" you shout in the lonely house. You burst in without a second thought. The only thing that matters right now is Watanuki. You dash to the living room, the kitchen, the mysterious hallways that you've never gone down, and not finding him in any of them. Your chest heaves from the sprint you've just made from your house to the shop. You take a moment to breathe, bending over and pressing your hands into your knees.

You walk back to the main room, noticing Yuuko's pipe that hasn't been put out and a half-empty sake cup on the kotatsu table. "Hey!" you call out one more time just for good measure. But there's no immediate reply, and you know you've come too late. Not even the twins or Mokona have answered, and this worries you all the more. The house is dark and cold, the emptiness sending shivers down your spine. Nothing. Your breath steadies—

"For the last time, my name isn't 'hey'."

— and there it goes again, heartbeat quickening as you turn. Watanuki stands at the doorway to his bedroom, and you notice you've completely forgotten to check there. He's dressed in a plain T-shirt and black pants, and one hand is placed delicately on the doorframe. His hair is slightly out of place, eyes half closed as if he's just woken up. "What are you doing here?"

Your shoulders relax, body releasing tension, and you realize that you really need to calm down, but seeing him disheveled like this is almost... sexy? You sigh and close your eyes for a brief moment, afraid you'll stare at him for too long. "Sorry. It's nothing."

"You wouldn't have come here for nothing," he says, stepping toward you. "I know you too well to know that 'nothing' wouldn't bring you to the shop the way it did now." He places the back of his hand on your forehead. "Did you run here? Your face is flushed."

You take his hand off your forehead, knowing that you'll resort to something drastic if he keeps touching you like this. "It's nothing."

"It's not," he persists. "You never say what's on your mind, never do what you really want to do, never act the way you would if I'm around and never feel the same on the outside what you feel in your heart."

You remain silent, taking in what he says. You know that everything he's telling you is the truth, but he doesn't understand just how painful it is to keep his burning confession bottled up.

Watanuki goes on, crossing his arms and averting his gaze, a smirk playing on his face. "At least, not when you're sober," he scoffs. And then his eyes widen when he realizes what he's just said, smirk disappearing in an instant. You see his face burn up, and he can't bring himself to look at you.

_Huh? _"Did I say something when I _wasn't _sober?" you ask calmly.

"Shit," he mutters, blocking his mouth with his hand, probably hoping you won't hear his words behind it or see how brilliant a shade of red his face has become. "It's nothing."

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**A/N: Wasn't that anticlimactic? I'm such a horrible person. :D**

**I'm probably completely wrong on the whole Doumeki-can't-see-spirits/Doumeki-wards-off-spirits thing, but it works for plot and I feel I haven't stretched it **_**too**_** much.**

**The next chapter (and/or maybe even the chapter after it) may get to them "doing the nasty" as my religion teacher phrased it XD Be prepared next chapter!**

**Though the next chapter may take a little while. The release of Durarara!! has me distracted. By the way, go watch it. It's the most amazing thing ever because my favorite character Shizuo throws refrigerators at people and yells "**_**DAAAAMMIIIT!!!**_**"**

**Ratings and reviews are appreciated muchly, thank you kindly~**


	4. Kimihiro :Words:

**IT'S HERE! :D IT'S FINALLY HERE!**

**is probably what you all were thinking. amiright?**

**So sorry for the delay. I'd blame it on various RL things, but they're all pretty much my fault so I can't really complain.**

**(Though one of them, this flame-ish thing I got on Stolen Heart, is _not _my fault and still has me pissed. (You know who you are, so f*** off.))**

**Chapter after this is started-ish. I'm hoping I'll get them out more quickly from here on out!**

**Ah, the both of them are so clueless. XD**

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Oh god, now you've done it. Just when Doumeki had forgotten everything, you thought you were in the clear but then you had to go and open your big mouth. Now he knows, now he knows, now he knows... You can't look at him; _Don't look in his eyes—_ You look. Shit. His eyes don't judge you or think you're a blabbering idiot, for once, though, and the moment your eyes meet his you can't look away. Just from your expression, you can tell that he can at least make a guess as to what he did. He blinks, slightly confused and curious.

"It's not nothing," he says. His eyes narrow, as if inspecting you, head to the side. You lean back, which only prompts him to lean further toward you. His face hardens. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"You're getting too close," you say, hand still covering your mouth.

"Really? I don't think so."

"It makes me uncomfortable, okay?!"

_Ah... _His eyes widen in mild surprise, realizing you've revealed an important piece of information. "Did I really say something, or did you just hit your head again?"

"It's not what you said, it's what you did!" you blurt out, unable to stop the words from coming out even when both hands fly up to block anything else from escaping. Your face falls, head now hanging. No doubt he'll remember everything now. You take a peek up to see what his expression looks like, and it seems that he still can't remember last night clearly.

"What in the hell did I...?" His voice trails off in thought, eyes staring you down more than ever before until they pop wide open and you see Doumeki blush for the first time. His expression softens to his trademark stare. "Did I go too far?"

You sigh. "I don't think we're on the same page."

"Well what page are you _on_?" he asks with exasperation.

"You kissed me!"

There's a long silence as Doumeki contemplates this, trying to remember. He looks to have drawn a blank, however, and he leans forward even more.

"Jeez, it would have been so much better if I'd been the one to forget, but now I'm gonna have to live with this memory for the rest of my life!" you wail, seeing the circumstances only get worse from here on out. "Oh, it'll never go away, it's gonna be hanging over my head forever, and _you're_ the one who can't remember! This is not fair, not fair at all, I'm such an idiot..."

"Why is it such a bad thing?" he asks sincerely. You gasp; he seems hurt by your words, hurt being an emotion you've rarely seen, if at all, in Doumeki. Regret washes over you like a tidal wave, threatening to knock you down. You back away even further only to find that there's no more further to go back to, your footing lost from the ground. You wait for the collision of body and table, bracing yourself for the pain, but it doesn't come. Doumeki manages to catch you, his arm wrapped around your back. He glares down at you, as if accusing you of falling. He says nothing more as he pulls you into an embrace, resting his head on your shoulder, and you can't help but reluctantly hug him back.

"Sorry," you mumble into his chest.

"Some catgirl spirit suggested you were in danger," he admits. "So I rushed over in case something had happened to you."

"You could see her?" Your attempt to stifle a laugh doesn't work all too well. "Don't take her seriously, she tends to be vague."

Doumeki's hand comes up to the back of your head, his grip on you tightening. "Sorry. I..." You can hear his heart beating faster, the sound echoing as your head leans against his chest. You've never seen him pause before; the short rapidfire comments he usually doles out casually are gone. "I worry about you."

You've never truly realized how much Doumeki really cares about you. As much as he teases you and jokes around, you're an important part of his life. All those times he's protected you: the countless ways he saved your life, catching you when you fell, the day he waited 10 hours in the rain holding your hand, the half-eye he sacrificed to you, the blood he selflessly gave away so you could live on. You look back on how it used to be, how you acted with hostility towards him when the two of you first met, and you know you've gradually come to accept him, if not depend on his very presence to keep you going. And how do you repay him? It's almost as if an equal price does not apply here. Doumeki gets almost nothing in return for the small things he does that show his concern rather than words that express directly what he feels.

"I love you," he says, voice breaking the usual monotone.

And suddenly, your hypothesis is thrown out the window.

"What?" you breathe, finally finding the courage to look up at him. His eyes drift down to you, swimming with blocked emotions you've never seen.

"Don't make me say it again," Doumeki deadpans. "It was hard enough the first time."

Your eyes study his face, searching desperately for any hint that he may be joking. But there's no revealing anything behind that mask of his; if you think he's always been serious before, that was nothing compared to now.

"I..." He pauses for a moment, as if he's trying to find the right words. "It doesn't change anything if you don't accept me," he continues, gaze downcast, refusing to let his eyes meet yours again. "I'll always protect you, no matter what." Then he moves in to kiss you lightly, tilting your head up with the nudge of a finger, lips barely touching yours, and you lose your sense of self. You close your eyes, which only serves to intensify the rest of your sensations, and let your arms fall away. He pulls away after what's seemed like five minutes even though only a few seconds have passed and apologizes under his breath.

He's being too kind to you and you can't take it anymore. You know that once you do this, you can't ever take it back. "Dammit all." You grab both sides of his face and press your lips to his. It takes Doumeki a moment to realize what you're doing before he kisses back with equal force.

"I think I love you too." The confession in words aloud sounds awkward, but it's only one word that annoys him with that sentence.

"You _think_?"

"What the hell do you want?" you grumble, getting agitated. The mood is disappearing quickly, your temper getting the best of you yet again. You turn away from him, preparing another rant, when Doumeki spins you on your heels and flings you over his shoulder with ease. You can't fight him, he's too strong, and it's not like you actually want to hurt him, but you protest anyway, beating his back with your fists and kicking your legs to no avail. He carries you effortlessly to your bedroom and shuts the door behind him.

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**You all must hate me right now. XD**

**Next chapter has what you've all been waiting for! (unless _this_ is what you've been waiting for, in which case CONGRATS~ you made it.)**

**Rated M now because of what's to come soon :3**

**Ratings and reviews are appreciated!~**


	5. Shizuka :Expectation:

**Cover your eyes, kiddies. This chapter ain't for you.**

**I would've had this up yesterday or even the day before, but this site was being weird and wouldn't let me upload stuff. But I guess that gave me a little time to fix it up, edit, and make it even better than it was. This is my first lemon, and the first time I've ever written _yaoi_ lemon (Blurg, my mom almost saw me writing this XD). /derpderp be gentle with comments but I want to know what you all think! :3**

**Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHolic, yaoi (though I _really_ wish I did :P), or lemons. Really, I don't.**

**Thanks for the hilarious suggestion from Turquoise! Without further ado, I give you... awkward!Doumeki :D**

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You throw the boy onto the bed and crawl over him before he has a chance to stand up again. He sits up only to find you blocking his way. You've been waiting, needing, desperate for this but you didn't know just how to put it all into the right words. You didn't even expect him to return your feelings at all, didn't expect that he'd feel the same way, didn't expect that he _wouldn't_ storm off to ignore you for a while. Which of course means you're completely unexperienced; you have no idea how to go about this. It's such a shame: you rather liked it when he resisted you. Your broad shoulders tower over his slender figure, casting a soft shadow that only succeeds in illuminating the outline of his face in a beautiful blue light, as he stares up with wide eyes.

You throw off your shirt in one swift movement and kiss him again, leaning over him, biting his lip. He gasps, parting them slightly; it's just enough to grant you entrance. You slide your hand up his shirt, watching him shiver from your touch, and he leans away, not wanting to lie back just yet. "Your hands are cold," Watanuki breathes brokenly. You glance down for a moment to see the rosy hue on his cheeks and an alluring expression, which only causes your hand to go higher up his chest. He initiates the kiss again, brushing his lips to yours lightly which only makes you want him more. The touch of your lips moves down his neck to his defined collarbone. His mouth is stubbornly closed, refusing to make a sound.

"Doume-" he starts, but the name breaks off with a hitch in his breath. His upper body curves inward when your hand presses down, his neck craning forward so that you can feel his shaky breath on your hair. You bring yourself back up to kiss him again, a small whimper escaping his throat. Your actions are frantic with desire, and as you progress you crave more and more you see it's not enough. You pull his shirt off over his head, and it's unacceptable when the two of you part for even a second. It falls carelessly to the floor as you kiss him even harder to make up for those precious moments of lost time, pushing him down onto the bed and sliding another hand down to his waist. Watanuki brings up his own hands to touch either side of your chest before he realizes what you're about to do. The caress of his fingers turns to a weak push in protest with his palms.

"S-Stop!" He winces; even the few words are difficult to get out. "Doumeki, no!"

He swallows. His hands are shaking, along with the rest of his body, and you can see he's beginning to grow frightened. You pause, touch still lingering but unmoving. "Yes? What?" you ask, your mouth still busy at his shoulder.

Watanuki looks up in surprise. "I-I didn't expect you to actually stop!" he pants, eyes confused.

It came with the inexperience. Maybe you weren't supposed to listen when he says no? The whole 'sex-with-guys protocal' has been lost on you. "Oh." Then you smirk, the first time you've smiled in a long while, one corner of your mouth pulling up into a crooked grin. "S'that mean you want me to keep going?" You don't wait for him to answer yes or no as your hand slides further down to undo buttons and find good spots.

He blushes furiously. "Idiot." He exhales, only to intake his breath sharply when you come across the more sensitive areas of his body. You take a while to feel him over, going smoothly and gently; he's clearly stifling a rising ecstacy as he attempts to swallow back noise.

You fidget, halting for a moment. Watanuki's eyes flutter open, wondering why you've stopped. Your brow furrows for a moment, gaze wandering in thought, until you finally bring up the courage to ask: "What exactly am I supposed to...?"

He groans in annoyance, teeth grit. "Do you mean to tell me you don't know _how_?!" He sits up by propping up on his elbows.

You give him a blank stare. "Not really, no," you say flatly.

"I'm not gonna tell you something like that, it's too embarrassing!" he whispers angrily, face growing redder, now apparently worried that someone else in the house would hear and find out what they were up to. He clasps his fingers around the back of your neck in a distant embrace. "Figure it out on your own, smart one! You're almost there."

_What?_ "You mean here?" You press a finger to his lower entrance. He tenses up in an instant, neck leaning forward, thin legs pulling back. His hands begin to tremble, fingernails digging into your back, and he can't help but let out a soft moan.

"Ow."

"Is that not right?" you ask awkwardly. It's not like you want to hurt him, but you know that what comes next can be harsh. You see faint tears budding from his eyes.

"It's fine," he says shakily, lifting his hips to get more comfortable, also making it easier for you to continue. You press your lips to his in hopes that it might dull the pain as he groans, pressing into you. When he's loosened up, you know he's fairly ready, but you ask just in case.

"Hurry, dammit."

You buck into him, eliciting a drawn-out moan that until now has been held back by restraint and pride. But pride no longer seems to matter. You would have expected him to be a bit angrier than he was, but it seems that it's hard for Watanuki to focus and think clearly at this point. "G-Go slower, Doumeki." It's a simple request that you eagerly grant. Anything he wants from you, he can have it. You don't care about Yuuko's law of equal price; you'll do whatever it takes to ensure Watanuki's happiness, even if it means the sacrifice of your own. As your thick build towers over him, you bring your lips to his hair.

"Kimihiro," you murmur, and you're startled as you realize the mistake you've made. You stop, straightening up and looking down at him in the expectation of an irate expression from him, but he only smiles warmly and leans forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your neck.

"Shizuka," he whispers, your face flaring up as his breath tickles your neck, soft lips brushing your ear. You can't take it anymore; you move into him again. He cries out longingly and draws himself in, pulling desperately, your chests meeting in parallel arch. You trace your lips along his collarbone and bite down gently. He arcs upward, arms dropping to cling to the sheets by his head, neck exposed as he bends back into the bed. You press one hand to pale skin that's now hot with racing blood and the other to interlace your fingers together with his as he murmurs your first name over and over. You draw your tongue up to trace his jaw as he shivers in growing climax, your own impending. At the peak, his body jerks upward. One final cry escapes his throat before he falls back onto the bed, chest heaving. You grit your teeth until it's over and exhale with a broken, labored sigh. Watanuki rests his head in the curve of your neck and closes his eyes, his tight grip on the sheets relaxing. It only takes you a few seconds to realize he's snoring, and you snort with laughter at the fact that he actually _snores._ Ironic. You bring yourself down to lie next to him and softly kiss his forehead, praying that morning will never come.

* * *

**It's not over yet!**

**This entire fic actually turned out to be longer than I'd originally planned. I think about 3 or 4 (possibly 5 orz) more chapters will be done before it's finally finished.**

**Stay tuned for a secret to be revealed! (I have a theory about a plot-twist, so that's a-comin')**

**Ratings and reviews are greatly appreciated! I'd love some feedback~**


	6. Kimihiro :Boiling:

**Hello all! It's great to be back~**

**For those who were tossing and turning in bed every night worrying, I'm not dead! \o/ RL has just gotten to me way too much, what with school and drama and life!drama and etc etc blah blah blah. I'm so sorry to all my readers that this one has taken so long, but I hope that such won't happen in the future. Also, this chapter turned out to be twice as long as my other chapters so you should be appeased for the time being :Db**

**So, I give to you: the aftermath!**

**Warning: a bunch of cursing on Watanuki's part because he's such a grumpy-gus and thoroughly pissed off at everything ever**

**but I'm assuming you've read the previous chapter so yanno I'm just gonna shut up now**

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In your half-conscious daze you flop you arm to the other side of the bed, where your glasses lay carelessly on the table almost out of reach. In near-blindness, your fingers paw at the frames until you've got a sure grip on them. It's comforting, knowing you can see semi-clearly again, but something's not right. Something is off. Something is missing.

Your clothes, for instance.

_Paaaaain_

With a more focused state of mind and your glasses you can now see the aftermath of last night. The clothes you thought were missing are actually strewn about the room, displaying an obvious trail from the door to the foot of the bed. Doumeki's clothes are nowhere to be found, until you realize that there is no _Doumeki_. A hand goes straight for your chest only to find it bare — and you know farther down it only gets worse — before your fingers travel up to grasp at your head, hands running through your hair as memories begin to flood back.

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit _shit_."

How late have you slept? As far as you can remember, Mokona and the twins haven't come in yet. It's so strange that you almost miss it. There's no Doumeki to be seen, but you know he hasn't left — Doumeki would never leave if there was the opportunity for a free meal. You wrap your arms around your drawn-in knees to make a nest to bury your head in and groan loudly.

The least he could have done was fold your clothes.

After slipping on loose pants and a T-shirt — while reminding yourself to burn the sheets later — you fling open the door and scream at the sudden presence of your three-part alarm clock waiting there patiently and as close to the threshold as one could get, and your heart drops to your stomach like a stone. Your feet automatically stumble back, almost causing you to fall. Heart pounding and mind racing, you pray under your breath that they don't suspect anything, knowing that merely thinking about it all anyway will trigger their suspicion.

"Jesus Chri- you scared the living crap outta me!!"

But the trio just smiles brightly at you and give you a rehearsed "Good morning!" with a symmetrical salute from Maru and Moro and a wide smile from Mokona. Thankfully, you're beginning to calm down, hoping your nervousness will only appear to be you, recovering after being startled out of your wits.

"Set the breakfast table for two!" "Two~" The twins each hold up two fingers, while Mokona thrusts out a paw that apparently indicates the same number.

"_I just wake up and you've already got me working?!_"

"Waaaaah, Watanuki's being meeeeean~" the twins cry in mock-fear.

"Wait," you pause. "Two?"

Mokona hops atop Moro's head, turning to face you. "Doumeki got here early this morning!"

"Early early, what could it be?~"

"Knock it off. What time is it?"

Maru and Moro give you blank faces. "Ten."

You blink, processing the last few seconds of conversation, fuse burning. "IN WHAT WORLD IS TEN O'CLOCK CONSIDERED _EARLY_?! Ugh..." You grasp your head, hoping they'll buy that you have a headache. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Doumeki told us not to~"

Every time you hear his name now, you flinch, cheeks flaring up in recollection of last night. You can't bring yourself to say his name. It's an uncomfortable feeling that now he knows your own body more than you do. "Where is he, anyway? He's probably starving," you mutter to yourself.

"Doumeki's outside."

And there goes your heart again. After instructing the girls to put water on to boil for tea, you find Doumeki in the backyard, sitting on the deck and staring out, composed as usual with his head in his hands. Despite it being so early you can still see an slight glow from the horizon that casts an orange shade on the trees and grass. Back turned, not wanting to face him, you touch your hand to the door and demand his attention. "Hey." The hairs on your neck stand on end, feeling his eyes staring when he notices you — like a spider crawling up — and you shiver from your own imagination.

"Uh. Hey." There's a small amount of surprise that slips out from his tone. When you hear him stand up, your body stiffens, and seeing this he stops.

"W-What do you want for breakfast?" you manage to ask, just barely. You sneak a peak out of the corner of your eye as Doumeki catches them and blinks. He takes a step closer, hoping.

"You're not mad?"

You blush, other hand rising to cover your face, eyes breaking away from his. "M-More tamagoyaki, then." Your feet move on their own, making a beeline for the kitchen as you almost break into a run. He follows you at a slower pace until you shut the kitchen door a little too hard behind you, back resting on the wall for a moment. Your body's hot and rising, shaking almost enough to rattle the door. A small smile breaks out across your face with a short laugh, and you press your fist to your forehead as if it could make your troubles disappear.

"This is ridiculous." If you were going to fall for a _guy_, why the hell did it have to be _Doumeki_?

Doumeki's waiting patiently at the kotatsu when you arrive with breakfast. Having not yet seen you there, he's chewing his thumb nail, gaze averted to the floor in deep thought. You can't help but notice that his eyes, though swirling with some inner conflict, are actually very pretty: he's got longer lashes than most Japanese guys would. You realize you're staring, but you can't stop yourself, taking in his high cheekbones, the smooth curve of his neck, his lips and slender fingers, both of which you've touched—

_Dammit_.

You stomp over and slam the tray in front of him. Your grip tightens on the sides for a moment, eyes squeezed shut; then you practically throw yourself from the table and turn on your heel as you growl loudly, furious with yourself more than with him. He's done nothing yet everything wrong. Teeth clenched beyond pain and fists balled until there are clear cresent indents in your palms, you find that you're violently shaking from anger. Once you're slightly calm, you pour tea with more focus and hang your head over the cups, steam billowing around your face until you begin to sweat from the heat. The screen door slides open with the help of one foot.

Tea threatens to slosh over the sides as you shove his cup towards him. You're somewhat calm, and yet you still can't look him in the eyes. Doumeki's halfway done with his rolls already, chopsticks lingering in his mouth for a while after each bite. He looks up at you, staring intensely, but you can't avoid him for long. You unwillingly find his gaze and from there on out you're trapped. He finishes an egg roll and swallows before he speaks.

"I think you're mad."

At this point you've taken up a roll with your chopsticks, but at hearing his words you unintentionally slice it in half in one swift movement. Pressing your utensils into the plate, you let out a sigh. You're not that mad anymore — at least, not at him — but the entire ordeal still bothers you. "I'm..." you start, but you catch his eyes again and stop. He's waiting expectantly for your verdict behind his tea.

"I'm not mad," you murmur almost defeatedly, eyes softening.

"Nervous?"

"...A little."

"Embarrassed?"

"Take a guess."

Doumeki falls silent, still watching you but no longer speaking as he sets down his tea cup which is nearly empty. You've taken to a stab-and-devour routine, eating rather quickly until after only a few minutes there's one left. The last roll pops into your mouth just as quickly, but not without getting a myriad of crumbs on your cheek. You grab for a napkin but realize you never brought them out, so you're about to flick it off when Doumeki's hand reaches across the table to wipe them off with his thumb. You wince, flinching from his touch, but he withdraws, staring at your cheek rather than your eyes.

Without thinking, you grab his wrist, pull it closer, and lick the crumbs from his fingers.

_What the hell am I doing?_

You pause, tongue still pressed to his thumb as you look up at him calmly. His eyes are wide with genuine shock.

_What's gotten into me?_

You move your tongue up his finger, flicking it off with the last few drops of soy sauce, never once taking your gaze from his.

_I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Maybe I've finally lost it._

It's all a blur when Doumeki leans over and swoops in to take a kiss from you, his other hand grabbing the back of your head to pull you in. He nearly knocks the kotatsu over, causing plates and trays to rattle noisily. The hand that's become intertwined with yours presses into the table for support. He's quick to thrust his tongue in, but your eyes close, body giving in to pleasure, ignoring your inner screams to punch him again. The chopsticks drop from your grip and clatter onto your plate so your fingers can stretch out to brush his cheek lightly and travel down his neck. Your mouth opens wider in a small gasp, returning the kiss, while his hand runs through your hair almost violently. Doumeki parts for a moment, lips just touching to yours. "Damn kotatsu's in the way," he growls under his breath. He sees that your lips are still moving, only wanting more, so he presses into you again, bumping hard into the table and knocking over his tea.

"Master, we have a visitor!!~"

Your eyes widen, as do Doumeki's, and you both rush to pull apart and sit back down in your respective seats before someone comes in. Doumeki's face is slightly flushed behind his shaking hand and widening eyes, which means yours is too, tenfold. You hate yourself for craving even more, but you know you can't have it now. For once, he looks slightly embarrassed, and it takes him a few moments to gather himself and stand. "I-I'll... get a towel," he mutters, leaving the room quickly.

He's just left earshot when the twins open the screen doors to reveal a beaming Kohane wearing a summer dress, and her hair has grown even longer. Her gait is light and bouncy. When you compare it to the sight of her when you first met, the change is truly dramatic. Immediately skipping the hello, she notices the two place settings. "Oh, is Doumeki here?"

_Of all the questions she could have asked._ "Y-Yeah," you stammer, managing a nervous smile. "He's getting a towel to clean up the tea he spilled."

"Doumeki's not one to be clumsy~" a pair of sinister voices whisper from behind the doors. You find their glinting eyes and mischievous smirks and you glare back, challenging with your own, and when Kohane's not looking you mouth at them to shut up.

Kohane holds up a package of bento boxes, then sets them down on the table away from the tea puddle. "I brought you some rice balls I made this morning," she says shyly. "I hope they taste okay."

You put on the brightest face you can muster, but underneath that mask you feel like you want to tear out your hair and scream. "Thank you, Kohane-chan. I'm sure they're wonderful."

For the next few moments you manage to have a normal conversation with her, considering. She doesn't seem to suspect a thing — and if she does, she's very good at hiding it. The girls make you more tea and stay out of your hair for a while, seeing that it won't be easy now to get anything out of you; but when Doumeki calls you from the other side of the house, and you instantly freeze. _Dammit._ Just when you were beginning to put the matter aside. You smile nervously and excuse yourself from the room.

"You're taking too damn long," you call out as you search for him. He's not in the hallway, or in the kitchen. "There should be some towels you can use i–"

A hand grabs your arm from behind, pulling you into an embrace, and your scream is muffled by Doumeki's lips. Your other hand finds his shoulders to push against him, but it's no use. He pulls you in by the small of your back, his grip tight on your forearm. He's more passionate than before, slower but somehow more intense. Maybe it's the embarrassment, or the steam from the hot tea, or the risk of being discovered— since when are you into something like that?— but you hate yourself for giving in so easily.

He breaks away, half-closed eyes staring at you. His hands subside, returning your arm. You frown, eyes narrowing with doubt. "How long did it take you to find those towels?"

Doumeki sighs, then pushes your hair away and leaves a long, light kiss on your forehead. His lips linger, and the heat of his breath is making you blush. "Two minutes," he whispers into your hair. Without a second thought he dashes out of the room to clean the table, or maybe it's to avoid you kicking him before you get the chance. You certainly feel like you want to. You're angry when he brings up the topic, but the action itself seems to be completely irresistable.

You'd beat any other guy half to death if he kissed you, so why is it okay if it's Doumeki?

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**ahaha oh relationships**

**Ratings reviews & the like are greatly appreciated!~**


	7. Shizuka :Cloudy:

**A chapter from the depths of Hell. Because I have died.**

**Yes, I did go to Hell. I read _The Onion_ and played _Close Range _last summer, that merits for something.**

**Wow, I haven't updated all summer. I thought I'd have all the time in the world to write one or even two, OHMAHGAW THREE MAYBE chapters, but my summer reading list & assignments begged to differ. This is what I get for choosing to go into English III Honors. Also, I've been kind of writing my original fiction so that eats up my muse. So sorry this is really late and and shorter than usual and I feel like it's not even that good ''OTL It's not much but it leads into something...? I guess. I hope this satisfies you all until I get back, which may or may not be soon. Depending on whether or not I become resurrected as an amazing writer zombie. Mmm, zombies.**

**So have fun, enjoy, laugh, do whatever you do when you read my fanfiction. (heart)**

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The next few days are busy with customers here and there throughout, but somehow you and Watanuki can still find time to sneak kisses or short touches between these visits. In the hallway, in the kitchen, any time where you can be alone with him you take a chance and hope he doesn't protest too much. The two of you are being smarter in covering up your secret, seeing as Mokona and the twins are beginning to get much more observant. You sit adjacent to Watanuki at mealtimes so that you don't knock over anything when you swoop in for a kiss. Watanuki is getting better at stifling the noises he can't help but voice unless he knows you're truly alone, while you both improve on hiding your nervousness shortly afterward. You try to space out your visits to the shop and start conversations about other things, things that don't bring up intimate details or memories.

Watanuki craves your touch, just as much as you crave his light ones, as unintentional or unconscious they may be. You soon find that he doesn't care for sex, but even your mouth on his can make him fall to pieces in your arms. Watching his eyes flutter and falter while your lips glide down his neck only puts fuel on the fire. You never want to see that pale, composed complexion ever again — only a blush on his cheeks, flared or soft and light, only for you. He's never had a lot of experience, and neither have you; holding out for so long has left you nearly insatiable, the pleasure having consumed both your lives and thoughts. Every time you glance at him you wonder when your next chance will be, and, judging by the way he looks at you he's probably thinking the same. When you steal him away to the hallway, the bathroom, the bedroom, even out on the back deck, no words are exchanged. It's a silent knowing, a mutual understanding met by the handshake never spoken of, never done; a handshake made by hesitant lips and a hand questioningly slipping under the other's clothes. Your lips, your hand, asking politely.

It doesn't seem to bother you that Watanuki is never one to initiate it.

What you have is only lust, after all.

_You remember your second conversation with the catgirl spirit on the morning after the first intimate night. She skips by, light and almost flying on her feet, chasing after another one of those goldfish. She sits on the fence, crouched and ready to pounce, tail twitching with anticipation. Just before she leaps, you call her out._

"...meki."

_"What did you mean by 'nasty things have a habit of getting in'?"_

_"Aw, you made my breakfast go away!~" she whines, pouting._

_The catgirl spirit is far more transparent this time around; all you can make out is a faintly colored outline, like undulating heat emanating from a sidewalk in the summer. You repeat the question, but she smiles mischievously and laughs to herself._

_"What?"_

"Dou...ki! Wata-chan... he's"

_"A nasty thing _did_ get in, didn't he?" She vanishes then, running in hot pursuit of another goldfish. You're left stunned and still a little confused. Are there such things as matchmaker spirits? The thought is ridiculous, but you know that she's the one who made you think that Watanuki was in danger, caused you to race to his house, and... well, everything else. You almost wish she'd stuck around so you could actually thank her._

"Doumeki."

Watanuki is leaning over you, expression a little annoyed, eyes cool and hair displaced. You can tell he's been smoking Yuuko's pipe — he's a bit more relaxed. It takes a few seconds to remember why he's up there, and why you're lying on the floor.

"Huh," you say.

"You passed out, Doumeki. Again."

The girls and Mokona sang like parrots to Watanuki's lines. Ah yes. It's been another late drinking session, this time out on the deck. You try to sit up dizzily, but he pushes you down and it doesn't take much force on his part. Your head hits the wooden floor hard, and it's slightly jarring. Lights and colors play before your eyes as they attempt to come back into focus from under all the sake. Watanuki takes a sip from his cup.

"Do you want to stay the night?"

In your alcoholic state it's difficult to lie, at least without showing it. You genuinely want to stay the night, even if nothing comes out of it. Just being around Watanuki, even if it's one-sided love for you but only physical attachment for him, is enough to make you nod sleepily. The trio chants away as they run off to set up Watanuki's bedroom for yet another sleepover. The sky, although midnight, is overcast and gray, and you blink.

"It's like the stars are hiding," you say.

Watanuki leans forward, slow and uncertain. You like that part of him, the flustered, nervous side that always seems to come out from the mask of Yuuko's tobacco. His hair brushes you gently, lips touch parted lips, your hand comes up to his ear as he opens up to you briefly. That's all. When Maru and Moro come back to tell them, "it's done, it's done~", the two of you have already parted, as if you haven't moved since they left. Your hand is still hovering where his ear had been; you let it fall to your chest. Though you know that his invitation means more, you're hesitant. For now it's enjoyable, but that's all. This kind of a relationship will not be healthy for either party, especially you. His eyes were closed, and you wonder what he was thinking behind them.

_Can I, just this once, be a little selfish?_

_

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_

**I hope you all caught the "it's like the stars are hiding" metaphor? I like to throw those things in because I'm weird. Also, metaphors rock.**

**Ratings, reviews and the like are welcome with open arms. Zombie arms.**


	8. Kimihiro :Reasons:

**Wrote another chapter quickly so you wouldn't hate me too much for leaving you in the dark. But now I'll be leaving you even _more_ in the dark! /cackle**

**Inspiration comes from listening to "Comptine d'un autre été". Get your tissues out, though it may not be for the reason you think. Stay classy, readers! Enjoy~**

* * *

You're back in the bedroom, just like the first night, unsure if the twins and Mokona are asleep yet. Doumeki's in another alcohol-induced sleep below. He hasn't said a word since that out-of-the-blue one-liner about the stars. You wonder what he meant by it. Was he just drunk and ready to spout whatever came to mind? Or was he going for subtlety, trying to say something without saying it outright?

That would be just like him, wouldn't it.

However, what isn't like him is that he's snoring. Doumeki doesn't snore, as strange as you find this. You turn your head to the side, unable to see him, hoping he'll be able to hear you anyway.

"Doumeki?"

There's a silence, and for a moment you think he may genuinely be out. But after a few seconds, you hear a small grunt with a questioning inflection at the end.

You take your pillow and throw it blindly over the side of your bed. "You're faking!" you hiss quietly. A half-hearted "ow" is heard, and Doumeki pops up, rubbing the side of his head as if the silk-encased down feathers actually hurt.

"Yeah?"

He says this as if he wants you to make it quick so he can go back to sleep. The dim cool light hits his face perfectly, accenting all those features you like about him, the shade of his hair, his eyes... You blush, avoiding eye contact nervously, but when you're not staring at him you don't know what else to look at. The rest of the room is shrouded in shadows. You draw your legs in, arms wrapped around your knees. He's staring, you can feel it: that electric sensation of hair standing on end, gaze like needles boring into the side of his skull, blood rushing to your cheeks, throat choking on the words you can't find.

You glance at him, suddenly taken aback by the fact that his expression has changed completely. Doumeki's got his head in one hand, propped up by an elbow, and he's actually smiling a little, eyes soft as if he can't take them off you. He looks like he wants to laugh.

"W-What?"

His smile fades, regressing back into his usual stoicism. "You had something to tell me?"

"...Sort of..." You hate having to admit that you want his touch, more of him, hate that he knows what you want but isn't going to say it for you.

But he does. "I get it," he says. Doumeki climbs further onto the edge of the bed, gives you a long kiss, doesn't leave you enough time to touch him at all before he parts, leaves for the futon, and says goodnight. It's not nearly enough, and you don't know what to say. You lean over the bed so you can see him down there, but he's turned away from you.

"That's all?"

_Surprised. Disappointed._

"That's all."

_Reserved. Finalized._

"Are you mad?"

"...Yeah."

He doesn't say anything more, and you're angry at yourself that you've clearly hurt him in some way. But you're clueless; you have no idea what you've done or said, only that there's something he's mad about and it's because of you.

"Please talk to me."

Doumeki reluctantly gets up again, only going so far as to prop himself up on the bed again. You hate his expression. It's so crestfallen. You've seen him angry, calm, and just now even happy, but never dejected.

"I don't believe that you love me," he says. "I'm sorry."

You're shocked, and now it's your turn to be upset. "What– how can you say something like that? I do lo–"

"Do you see love as anything more than sex or foreplay?" he interrupts. "Something physical? Is that what love is to you?" You don't think you've ever heard his voice raised like that. You don't want to look at him. You hesitate to respond.

"...So why do you love me?"

Doumeki says nothing. He crosses his arms over the edge of the bed, looking away. You can almost hear the silence, every little creak and groan in the shop. A pin dropping would sound like thunder. Seeing as how loud you two have been, you're surprised that the others are still asleep. Finally, you're about to apologize to Doumeki, but he won't let you.

"I love the way you get angry with me," he says in a whisper. "I love the way you used to get angry with Yuuko, the way you'd stomp and yell when she ordered you around. I love the fact that sometimes you just can't stand me when I ask for food that's out of season. I love your cooking and watching you cook, and the way you take tastes with your finger when you think no one's looking." He brings his eyes up to yours, noticing the welling tears, but continues. "I love it when you come out of the kitchen so I can see the smudges of flour on your face, the sweat on your temple, the chocolate still on your bottom lip and watch you lick it away. I love how you were nervous the first time I kissed you seriously and the first time we had sex. I love the way you'd smile at Kunogi, at Kohane, at that fortuneteller, sometimes even at Yuuko. I love your smile, your kindheartedness and generosity, your determination to make things right for people who can't, the way you give everything your all. I love the pure, astounded look you get on your face when you see something amazing, and it makes me want to share more of those things with you."

The tears are streaming down now even as you tell them to stop. There are too many to wipe away. "So why are you mad at me?"

"Because you don't blow up at me anymore. You no longer smile. You're not yourself. I loved you better back then." Doumeki takes a deep breath. "So why do you say you love me?"

You're silent. You can't come up with a thing that isn't physical attraction or sexual desire.

"I-I don't know."

Doumeki gets up and makes for the door, never once facing you. "I'm sorry I bothered you, then."

The door closes behind him faster than you can bolt out of bed. You grab the door handle and turn; it's unlocked, but he's is blocking the door, so you pound on it with the palm of your hand. "Doumeki! Doumeki, let me out!" You don't care that the twins may wake up. The tears come faster, flowing and dripping from your chin. "Doumeki, _please!_" you beg. You can still feel the weight of his body on the door, a slightly reassuring sign that he's still there, listening. "Please, Doumeki, I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry," he says, and you can feel the door moving a little, "it's... it's not your fault." Even through the door, you can hear that he doesn't trust his own voice.

* * *

**I cried. Really.**

**Ratings and reviews are appreciated, always. Even when I'm being evil to my dear readers ;;**


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